No Regrets
by RunBabyRun8312
Summary: "No matter what has happened, or what will happen, I don't regret it. I would give up every different option, every different path I could have taken to have the time I've had with you, Jemma."


They fell to the bottom of the cell as it plummeted into the ocean, both still screaming. They hit the water hard and tumbled inside what was sure to be their coffin. The box began to sink slowly. Simmons heard Fitz's breathing, short and erratic. She crawled over to him and grabbed his hand.

"Fitz, Fitz," she said, pushing back his hair with her empty hand, "You need to calm down. We only have a certain amount of oxy-"

He let out a sob that broke her heart. She felt tears spill down her own cheeks and ceased the ever moving thoughts in her brain. _Oxygen._ She had only scared him more.

Fitz dropped his face onto her shoulder and screamed against her collarbone, his tears sliding down her smooth leather jacket. Simmons pressed herself as close to him as possible and cried into his soft curls.

The inside of the box got darker the deeper they sunk, like they were falling closer and closer to death. Simmons had stopped crying and now rested her cheek atop Fitz's head while stroking his back. He shook in her embrace. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Fitz lifted his head.

"I can't believe he did it," he sniffed, "You were right. You're always right."

"Oh, Fitz. I wish I hadn't been."

"It's my fault. I egged him on. I should have - I should have -"

Simmons put her hands on her shoulders and shook her head. "You were so incredibly brave in there, Fitz. I'm so proud of you. There was nothing more that you or I could have done."

Fitz met her eyes and tried to give a grin, but he still felt like he could have done more. He could have given himself up to Ward and maybe gotten Simmons out of there safely. The different scenarios played on in his head and he didn't notice Simmons looking at him sadly.

"Stop it," she said, "If-if this is going to be the end of us, I don't want you spending it beating yourself up."

"This isn't going to be the end."

His voice didn't convince himself, let alone her. Simmons moved to sit against the wall and ducked her head to sneakily wipe away the tears that had come to her eyes. Fitz had always been the hopeful one out of the two of them. He had believed in finding her a cure when she was ready to give up. He had believed in Ward, despite the amount of evidence against him. While she often couldn't have the same optimism, she always appreciated his. If Fitz wasn't confident that they were going to get out, how could she even have a sliver of hope?

She felt him scoot himself next to her. He found her hand and squeezed it.

"I'm so sorry," Simmons said after a silent moment.

"Wha- Why are you-?"

"It's my fault we're here. I brought us on that stupid plane."

"I'm glad you did," Fitz said, "I mean, there are definitely moments that I could have done without, this included, but it's been good for us, I think. And, besides, where would we be if we hadn't been on the team? Probably killed during the uprising."

She tried to laugh. "This wasn't what either of us thought would happen when we joined SHIELD, huh?"

"No matter what has happened, or what will happen, I don't regret it. I would give up every different option, every different path I could have taken to have the time I've had with you, Jemma."

Simmons looked at him with tears welling up in her eyes once again, but she didn't bother to wipe them this time.

"I-I wish we weren't here," Fitz continued, "But if I had to be here with anyone, I'm glad - well, not glad - but I… What-what I'm trying to say is I-I'm glad you're here, but I'm not. Do-do you un-"

She nodded, letting out a genuine giggle at his attempts to phrase it right. Fitz smiled at the sound. For a moment they almost forgot where they were.

Then Simmons gasped. "You're bleeding!"

She ran her fingers on his scalp, moving his hair to see the red matting down some of his light curls. Thankfully, it was dried and didn't seem to be bleeding anymore.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, stroking the wound gently.

Being so close to him, her words tickled his ear. Fitz just shook his head.

"Must've hit it when we fell," he said breathlessly.

Her hand was still in his hair, brushing against his scalp and sending shivers through him. She ran the bloody curls through her fingers to clean them. Red stained the pads of her fingertips and she wiped them on her jeans.

"Okay, Doc?" he asked.

"I think you'll live."

The words stung both of them as they left her mouth.

"Jemma, how-how long do you think-?"

Her voice rattled as she sighed. "Not long enough. There's still so much more we could have done. But, I don't regret anything either."

"No matter what happens, Ward will get what's coming to him. And Garrett, too. Coulson and May and Skye and Trip will make sure of that."

"Oh, God, Fitz. I don't want to think about them."

A few tears slid down her face — for the betrayal from Ward, for the things that he and Garrett and Hydra had done, for the people that she would miss. All Simmons could hope was that the team would not meet a similar fate.

Fitz ran his thumb over her cheek. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry."

Simmons met his eyes. More than anyone, she would miss him. He was right there next to her, as he had been the whole damn time, but although she would be spending her final moments with him she would mourn her time cut short with him the most. She knew it was stupid. Once they were dead, she couldn't miss him. It made her long for the moment the oxygen ran out so that she wouldn't have to feel the tearing in her heart, but she also wanted to relish every last moment she had with Fitz in that box.

He had moved his hand from her face and it now rested on her thigh while he remained turned. He looked at her full of concern because, for once, he couldn't read her expression. Simmons brushed her fingers against his check, then let her whole hand rest there, the tips of her fingers gently touching the bottom of his ear.

"Je-"

Fitz's breathing hitched and his throat seemed to have closed up as Simmons brought her face near his. Her soft breath hit his lips. She shifted her legs to turn into him better, shifting Fitz's hand to her hip in the process. Simmons' breathing quivered as she looked at his eyes one more one before closing the gap between their lips.

To Fitz it felt both like an eternity and a millisecond. When they pulled apart, he missed her soft kiss immediately. To think he had been missing that for so long. How had he ever convinced himself, or anyone for that matter, that he didn't want that? Simmons looked down nervously and tried to hide her blush. Her body shook, very aware of the hand, rough from machinery, that was making contact with the tiniest sliver of skin peeping out from under her top. She worked hard to find her voice after a long silence.

"Say something. Please."

"Bloody hell," Fitz whispered.

Simmons released the breath she had been holding and dropped her forehead against his neck, molding herself against him as much as possible. Fitz wound his arms around her. He pressed a kiss against her hair.

"I love you, Jemma."

"I love you, too. I'm sorry it's like this."

"This way, that way, any way — it doesn't matter. I've got you."

"And I've got you."


End file.
